Riding the Pinehttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com
Tue, 23 Jan 2018 18:20:00 +0000enhourly1http://wordpress.com/https://s2.wp.com/i/buttonw-com.pngRiding the Pinehttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com
Learning Danish vs. Learning Swedishhttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2018/01/23/learning-danish-vs-learning-swedish/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2018/01/23/learning-danish-vs-learning-swedish/#respondTue, 23 Jan 2018 18:13:51 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=2752More Learning Danish vs. Learning Swedish]]>In November I started practicing Spanish on Duolingo, so I’d be able to say more than just “cerveza” or “agua por favor” on my next trip to Spain (which most certainly will be happening again). It’s gotten me thinking about the other languages I’ve learned, or at least tried to learn, in my adult life.

I grew up trilingual, speaking German and English at home and attending French immersion from elementary through high school. Once I had three useful languages under my belt, I started thinking about learning more – and I definitely wanted to start with one I could use to talk to hockey players from different parts of the world whenever I finally landed my dream job with the NHL.

I settled on Swedish, but put it at the back of my mind for my first couple semesters at university. Instead I borrowed books from the library with CDs so I could practice on my own, and looked into doing language courses in Sweden in the summer, though they were all out of my price range.

After my first year in business school, I decided to go on exchange to Sweden. Finally I was going to get a chance to learn Swedish from an actual Swedish person thanks to free lessons for exchange students, and I’d actually be immersed in the culture and be forced to learn how to read at least some of the language.

Swedish classes were fun. I befriended a German and we had a much easier time than the many Australians and Chinese in our class whose languages were completely different. We wrote stories about our exchanges, filled in blanks in sentences about Valborg, and played games to learn the names of emotions.

At the same time, I was translating cooking instructions on the sides of boxes while I struggled to feed myself for the first time, and mimicking the pronunciation of the stops that were announced on the bus. Soon I was ordering beer in Swedish and trying to talk to my Swedish friends when I was drunk. (They were gracious enough to tolerate my mistakes and horrible pronunciation.)

When I went back to Canada for my last year of university, I was allowed to enroll in the second-year Swedish courses. We were a hodge-podge of people in those classes, some with Scandinavian roots, some who just wanted (like me) to learn an uncommon language for the hell of it.

A post shared by Larissa (@lariwestside) on Mar 1, 2014 at 10:40pm PST

I loved Sweden, but when the time came for me to choose where to move to in order to find a job, my adventurousness kicked in and I decided to try Denmark instead.

Swedish is a beautiful language. Danish…is the opposite. Swedes say that Danes speak with a potato in their mouths, and I can’t argue that.

People living in Denmark are actually entitled to free Danish lessons once they’re registered in the country. Unfortunately, through a bureaucratic mess I never did get the all-important CPR number and its included benefits until almost a year after my first move. Instead, I had to try and learn Danish only by immersion.

Knowing and understanding Swedish is really useful in Denmark only when it comes to reading things. Other than a few false friends, I didn’t really have trouble understanding warning signs and advertisements; it’s easy to remember that the Danish for “jag” is “jeg” and “av” is “af”.

The difficulty really occurs when Danish is spoken.

In general, excepting a few dipthongs, all of the letters in a Swedish word are pronounced. In Danish, you are lucky to hear half of them. Worst of all, you will probably only hear the vowels.

Take the name “Rødovre”, a neighbourhood in greater Copenhagen. Assuming you know that ø is pronounced like oe or the German ö, you might look at a name like that and pronounced it “roed-o-ver”. In reality, it’s more like “roe-o-e”. Seriously. The first time my former boss said it out loud I had no idea what he was talking about, despite my living only a few kilometres away.

There’s a popular video from a Norwegian comedy series about the Danish language. I used to watch it and laugh. After living in Copenhagen for a while, I realized it was scarily accurate.

Even though spoken Danish is a struggle, and I had no school environment in which to practice, I did manage to memorize a few things to say that I would practice while queuing to pay at the grocery store. (“Jeg har min egen, tak,” when someone offered me a bag, for example – though I always did struggle with “i lige måde” when told to have a nice day.) The trouble came when someone would say something that I was unprepared for.

Initially, I would always jump to Swedish; having practiced it more, it came more naturally. Danish people are pretty good at understanding Swedish, since in some ways it’s just a more eloquent version of their own language (I’m generalizing here, please don’t attack me Sweden). But eventually, after getting so used to all the Danish around me, I started blurting out guttural noises.

Sometimes they were an actual (failed) attempt to say a real Danish sentence. Other times I would really just make a few random vowel sounds while I tried to remember the correct response. Yet somehow, my message was almost always understood.

Occasionally I would answer someone when they spoke to me in Danish, only to have them continue speaking beyond my vocabulary. I’ve found that in those instances just laughing and saying “ja” goes a long way. By the way, do you ever find yourself in a group of people speaking a language you don’t understand, and when they make a joke you laugh with them, even though you have no idea if it was actually funny? Story of my life at this point.

So, while I have found the Norwegian tale of grunting Danes quite relatable, there are also instances where Danish pronunciation is so fickle, that Danes won’t understand if you very slightly mispronounce a word. I remember a Spanish-speaking colleague telling me about a time she was at a party with Danes and suggested ordering pizza, and no one could understand what she was talking about because she put a slightly different emphasis on the i. I guess the p and z sounds weren’t enough of a giveaway.

Swedish can be seen as having a nice combination of words that are familiar to English speakers and German speakers, whereas Danish is its own beast. Sometimes I was surprised to hear a Danish word and realize how close it sounded to German, but I never would have assumed that pronunciation from seeing it written.

Danish isn’t all bad, despite its reputation. I’ve been gone from Copenhagen for seven months but I still haven’t forgotten anything – I think full-blown immersion will do that to you. I may be practicing basic Spanish sentences on my cat, but I still talk about fruits and vegetables in Danish. Meanwhile I write my grocery lists in a combination of German and Swedish.

Aren’t languages fun?

]]>https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2018/01/23/learning-danish-vs-learning-swedish/feed/0lariwestsideAnother Year Overhttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/another-year-over/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/another-year-over/#respondThu, 28 Dec 2017 18:09:17 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=4030More Another Year Over]]>At the beginning of this year I wrote a long post which included a rant about how much I hate New Year’s as a holiday and that I think resolutions are stupid. Well, all that is still true. But the reason I had written the post in the first place was to look back on a turbulent 2016, my first year of possibly “proper” adulthood. I also set myself some goals not just for 2017, but for the forseeable future. So, how did I do in the first year?

Goal: Run a marathon
Hey, I did that! I worked hard, stuck to a schedule, made sacrifices, and exceeded my expectations. It was a huge effort and thus something I’m incredibly proud of, though I don’t feel the overpowering need to do it again very soon. I’ve barely run a whole marathon’s worth in all of my runs combined since that weekend in May.

Goal: Climb Kilimanjaro
Well, I knew this was very unlikely to happen this year. But, I still finally had the financial freedom and time to take some proper vacations, rather than just move back and forth between Germany and Denmark. I went to Cologne, Bornholm, back to Canada, Malaga, Gibraltar, and London, so no complaints here. Plus, if I can save up the money quickly then there’s really no reason why I shouldn’t have Kilimanjaro checked off my list within the next two years.

Goal: Build up my savings account
I did live quite frugally in the grand scheme of things while I was in Copenhagen. Sure, I treated myself to Espresso House or ice cream every weekend, but I also hardly bought any unnecessary clothes and I stayed in my cheap room instead of looking for something bigger and more expensive. My savings have gotten a little depleted with all the vacations I’ve taken since then. But I’d rather have experiences than lots of money.

Christmas near Tower Bridge

Goal: Occasionally treat myselfBeyond travelling, I did splurge on a few things for myself throughout the year (sometimes others too – I bought real butter instead of the cheap margarine for the toffee I made as Christmas gifts!). I spent 20€ on a tube of mascara and bought a jar of moisturizer that cost more than all the lotion I’ve bought in the last three years combined. But you know what? I can actually see the difference. I look better and therefore I feel better. Spending that amount of money is worth the confidence boost.

That’s not to say I’ve been spending frivolously. I hardly made any impulse purchases (Harry Potter wrapping paper notwithstanding), taking days, weeks, or sometimes months to decide on my major buys. I invested money into high-quality, practical things, like the rainboots that have made biking in Europe so much more tolerable, and the armchair that’ll look great when I eventually move into my own apartment with almost no furniture. I even compared multiple food options whenever I went out to eat so that I could be sure I was making the best choice, which, in hindsight, was probably overkill.

Lake Louise

Goal: Be more positive
Can you consider yourself to be more positive if you start to notice excessive negativity around you? It certainly feels like there are many people who complain more than I do, but that doesn’t make me a saint. That said, I do think I took a lot more time in all sorts of situations to think rationally, try and see things from others’ perspectives, and focus on the positives and all that I’m fortunate to have in life. I left Copenhagen with fond memories rather than persistent frustrations. I still let myself have grumpy days though, and I’d get riled up if the Wi-Fi wasn’t working properly, so I can continue to improve on this in the future. I do think my trips to Canada and the UK were a big help in making me more polite to strangers again, even if I still miss hearing the word “sorry” all the time.

I had to re-post this photo from Malaga to acknowledge all the amazing food I got to eat this year. And, after more than 20 years of pure hatred, in 2017 I finally came to like mushrooms.

2017 wasn’t all sunshine and roses, and some pretty awful stuff happened on a personal level as well as globally. But through it all I think the good managed to outweigh the bad. I had to move away from my friends again, who I still miss months later. Luckily I got to hang out with my dad on multiple occasions in the past few months after we hadn’t seen each other in three years – and those are the kinds of happy memories I’ll cherish even after the year is over.

So, do I have anything to add to the list at this point? Nah. I’ll keep working towards my goals after a successful first year. I might have to consult my bucket list to see what else I could do in the near future. Maybe I’ll finally go to a medieval restaurant or learn the rules of cricket.

]]>https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/28/another-year-over/feed/0lariwestsideCopenhagen Marathon Finish LineLondon Bridge ChristmasLake Louise from Plain of Six Glaciers Tea HouseMalaga Mushroom TapasA Very Frosty Christmashttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/a-very-frosty-christmas/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/23/a-very-frosty-christmas/#respondSat, 23 Dec 2017 15:55:03 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=3984More A Very Frosty Christmas]]>Don’t worry: though the title of this post may suggest it, I’m not about to type up the entire sixteenth chapter of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince for you (that’s also a lot of work). But I thought it was appropriate for a post about one of the things I was looking most forward to on my latest trip to London, namely stopping at Leavesden Studios in Watford for the Warner Bros. Studio Tour, “The Making of Harry Potter”.

This trip marked the first time I’d travelled to London with other people, and so it was the perfect opportunity to make the trip outside the city to do the tour. Like Madame Tussauds or the Leaning Tower of Pisa, this seemed like the kind of place I didn’t want to experience alone in case any cheesy photo opportunities came up.

I know a few people who have been to the studios before me, and there are plenty of photos and stories online, but I didn’t want any spoilers before our visit – even if that did leave me a bit clueless as to what to expect as we sat on the train from Euston Station. If you’d also like to be surprised, maybe don’t keep reading. I tried to leave out photos from some key sets in any case because photos alone just don’t do the tour justice.

We were lucky to be there shortly after the winter display, Hogwarts in the Snow, had started, meaning there were plenty of Christmas decorations to admire.

In the entrance lobbyWhile queuing to get in you can check out Harry’s first bedroom

After a couple of introductory videos that had us shaking with anticipation, we were shown into the Great Hall, ready to host the Yule Ball.

Christmas puddingsAnd Christmas dinner

The Great Hall set doesn’t actually have a [magical] roof!This is the roof shown in the films, built at a much smaller scale

Sadly, but understandably, we weren’t allowed to linger very long. But from that point the tour was no longer guided, and we took our time reading every set and prop description and listening to every story told by members of staff.

Labels in the wig departmentIn the wardrobe distressing section, we learned that in The Deathly Hallows, Daniel Radcliffe had eight versions of the same jacket (from The Gap), each with different levels of distress so that scenes could be filmed out of order, while the characters got progressively dirtier in battles. I also learned that Voldemort’s robes when from a rich to a pale green, getting a shade lighter every time one of his Horcruxes was destroyed.Portraits along the staircases, including Anne BoleynSome of the portrait subjects are actually film crew, like in the big picture above the TVThe Gryffindor boys’ dormitoryWith Dean’s West Ham collectionNotable props, including the Golden Snitch, Philosopher’s Stone, and Rita Skeeter’s Quick Quotes Quill

The Potions classroomDumbledore’s office, which also doubled as Lupin’s office in The Prisoner of AzkabanIf the Firebolt is the best broom in the world, why does it look so much shabbier than the Nimbus series?To make Hagrid look bigger, the film crew used perspective tricks, such as this split table that looks even on camera.The kitchen at the Burrow, with the Weasley’s clock on the far wallMalfoy ManorWe got to explore the Forbidden Forest, rebuilt and newly opened in 2017. A bit nerve-wracking for someone like Ron Weasley (or me) who doesn’t like spiders

I’ve lost my owl!A Honeydukes display at the first gift shop. I’ll take the lotAnd so will first-year Harry and Ron, apparently

We made it past the Hogwarts Express, the last exhibit before the cafeteria, around lunchtime. We finally had the chance to indulge in some Butterbeer before continuing the tour outside, where we could check out the Knight Bus, Number 4 Privet Drive, the Hogwarts Bridge, and the Potter’s house in Godric’s Hollow.

Despite being topped with ice cream, it did warm my soul

Classic Dudley. One of many framed photos of his achievements, including “table monitor”

From there we had a look at some of the mechanical props used for special effects; a lot of what seems like it should be CGI in the films was actually done with robots and very talented artists. It was all explained in detail in a few short films starring Warwick Davis, who plays Professor Flitwick and Griphook.

I had gotten distracted by Dobby-related games on the other wall and then found myself standing in front of a Hippogriff a bit too early, waiting for the last video to start again. Just then a group of school children came up next to me, with a teacher talking a bit about the electronics. A little boy asked, upon seeing the Hippogriff, “Is it real?” The teacher explained that it was the only real model used during the films, with the other Buckbeaks being added in later. Suddenly, another girl piped up, “If it was real you would see it breathing.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell them that Hippogriffs don’t actually exist at all.

Sadly, it’s not breathing.

From there we got to walk through Diagon Alley and peer into all the shops. That was followed up with displays from the art department, which were mostly 3D paper mock-ups of sets.

The many hats of the wizarding world, including Beauxbatons hats made by milliner Philip Treacy

A paper mockup of Hogwarts…

One of the last rooms of the tour offered a beautiful surprise.

…followed by the actual model.

In the very last room, you can see boxes upon boxes of wands. Each cast and crew member received their own.

We’d spent even more time in the studios than we had at the Tower of London, and yet it was still hard to leave. After one final tour of the third gift shop we boarded the bus and fell asleep on the train back to London.

Luckily, I have a Chocolate Frog and wand under my Christmas tree to remind me of the lovely experience. (The Hufflepuff scarf is being worn regularly.)

It’s been over five years since my first major Eurotrip, and now that I live over here I kind of take my mini-adventures in stride, just kind of winging it in whatever city I end up in. Not surprisingly, for their first transatlantic journey Sheila and Curtis planned a little better than I.

On our first full day together in London, we opted for the one-day London Pass. The London Pass gets you free entrance, line skips, and discounts all around the city. The guidebook that came along with it was packed with way more than we could possibly do in just one day (and it yet again increased the length of my London to-do list) so we prioritized a few sights that just couldn’t be missed.

Our first stop: the Tower of London.

You can see part of the Tower’s winter ice rink

We were there bright and early, fifteen minutes before it opened at 9, having walked from our hostel in London Bridge. That gave us the chance to the see the traditional opening ceremony still performed every day at the Tower.

The Wakefield Tower aheadByward TowerIn front of Traitor’s Gate

We popped into the mint to eyeball some old coins.

The elephant under Charles II indicates that the coin (five guineas) was made from gold mined in AfricaAt one point British monarchs started double-stamping other countries’ coins so they could be used in Britain

Some employees advised us to head straight for the Crown Jewels next, so we could beat the crowds. We followed their suggestion and had the building nearly to ourselves, admiring important diamonds, rubies, and gold artefacts. Among the impressive objects in the vaults are the Cullinan Diamond, which was the world’s largest for 80 years and is now found in the Sovereign’s Sceptre with Cross and the Imperial State Crown.

Even so, with all those beautiful jewels on display, what I really wanted to take home was the gold punch bowl used at grand occasions that could hold 145 bottles of wine. That would be a hit at any party.

The White Tower

Tower Green with the Church of St Peter ad Vincula in the backQueen’s HouseThe building housing the Crown Jewels (sadly, no photos allowed inside – impressive clock though, eh?)

At 10 AM, we joined a Tower tour led by one of the Yeoman Warders. He introduced us to each of the towers on the site, pointing out notable names who had been imprisoned in each one.

The Yeoman Warders, and sometimes their families too, live in the Tower in houses like these

Our tour ended at the Church of St Peter ad Vincula, after which we were keen to explore all of the towers’ exhibits.

Most executions were not undertaken at the Tower itself, but rather on Tower Hill. This memorial marks the place on Tower Green where Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, Lady Jane Grey, and other nobles too important to be seen by the public were beheaded.Intricate graffiti in the Beauchamp TowerA model of King Henry III’s polar bear, kept at the Tower and allowed to swim in the ThamesCharles II ordered six ravens to be kept at the Tower of London at all times, lest the monarchy fall. Nowadays there are seven, just to be safe

The largest tower, the White Tower, now displays the armouries of monarchs past.

Built in the 11th century

King Edward IV’s sons, Edward and Richard, were declared illegitimate by his successor, King Richard III. He imprisoned them in the Tower and they were never seen again. Centuries later, two skeletons were found in this spot and presumed to be the remains of the doomed princes.Henry VIII was compensating for something…St John’s ChapelThe 914-page Ledger of Receipts, Returns, and Issues, that contains detailed weapon inventories from between June 1675 and September 1679Henry VIII was apparently quite inventive when it came to weapons, and so he purchased these gun shields for his troopsSome medieval torture devices

By the time we had seen most of the Tower, nearly three hours had gone by. But we couldn’t pass up the opportunity for a full lap along the ramparts, where there was plenty more to see.

A model of the Tower during the Peasants’ Revolt in 1381

The last executions at the Tower took place shortly after World War II……down hereThe Royal Beasts exhibit was an absolute treat for its vivid portrayal of how uninformed people were about animals in the past

A view of modern London: the Walkie-Talkie, Cheesegrater (and second one under construction), and Gherkin as seen from the Tower of London’s ramparts

After four hours, we still hadn’t seen everything (including, alas, the café and some of the many gift shops), but we decided we needed to put that London Pass to good use and get on the Hop On Hop Off bus for a scenic ride to our next destination.

It was very important that we got the full Joey and Chandler experience.

A nice drive on the south side of the river and across Westminster Bridge led us to Westminster Abbey.

No photos allowed inside, sorry

The Abbey was one of my must-see buildings the first time I was in London. I remember balking at the 13£ entrance fee, having just visited Notre Dame for free in Paris, with my intrigue for a look at the site of the 2011 Royal Wedding overpowering my qualms about the price.

That experience was beyond words. I was so enthralled by every aspect of the Abbey, from its history to its grandeur to the fact that the audio guide is narrated by Jeremy Irons. I even participated in a mass that started while I was there. All of my memories were so spectacular that I was worried I was overhyping the place.

I wasn’t. Westminster Abbey was amazing even the second time round. This time, in the cold, grey weather, there was no queue and hardly anyone to block the views inside. A smile instantly crept on my face when I held the audio guide to my ear and heard “Hello, I’m Jeremy Irons” again.

During my first visit I knew the cathedral from the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s wedding, and even had a guide explain to me exactly where Kate Middleton walked down the aisle to get married. This time I had just re-watched the first season of The Crown on Netflix, and was more interested in picturing the Queen’s inauguration almost 65 years ago.

We didn’t want to rush in either attraction. By the time we left Westminster Abbey, decidedly not Westminster Crabby, the sun was already setting and the wind picking up. We hopped on the bus once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of Buckingham Palace, but we were all a bit frozen from spending the entire day outside and in ancient structures. So we settled on popping into the gift shop.

Look at this beautiful tree decorated with replicas of St Edward’s Crown!

We grabbed the bus one last time for a bit of a nighttime tour of the city centre. Being stuck in traffic gave us the chance to admire Piccadilly Circus and St Paul’s Cathedral from our warm seats.

The end of such an exhausting day naturally required a beer (or six). After all, it’s not a proper trip to London without exploring some of the city’s pubs too!

Pub-hopping along the riverA pint of Dark Vader well earned

]]>https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/16/hopping-on-and-off-in-london/feed/2lariwestsideTower of London 1Tower of London 2Tower of London 12Tower of London 3Tower of London 4Tower of London 5Tower of London Mint 1Tower of London Mint 2Tower of London 6Tower of London 7Tower of London 8Tower of London 10Tower of London 9Tower of London 13Tower of London 14Tower of London 15Tower of London 22Tower of London 23Tower of London 25Tower of London 26Tower of London 24Tower of London 11Tower of London 16Tower of London 17Tower of London 18Tower of London 19Tower of London 20Tower of London 21Tower of London 27Tower of London 28Tower of London 29Tower of London 30Tower of London 31Tower of London 32Tower of London 33Tower of London 34Westminster Abbey 1Westminster Abbey 2Buckingham Palace Gift ShopLondon Bridge 1Dark VaderMalaga Part 3: Accidentally Climbing Promontories in Gibraltarhttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/07/malaga-part-3-accidentally-climbing-promontories-in-gibraltar/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/12/07/malaga-part-3-accidentally-climbing-promontories-in-gibraltar/#commentsThu, 07 Dec 2017 10:23:09 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=3876More Malaga Part 3: Accidentally Climbing Promontories in Gibraltar]]>If there’s one thing I consider myself an expert in, it’s geography. I can name every country in the world and its capital, I know for the most part which territories belong to which nations, and yesterday I even submitted a goof to IMDb about characters who mispronounced country names in an episode of a TV show I was watching. In short, I know my stuff.

Which is why I’m embarrassed to admit that after I booked my flight to Malaga, I had to look at a map of Spain to find out where it was. (Hint: it’s not near Barcelona or Madrid.) On that occasion I discovered that it wasn’t far from Gibraltar, which was a happy coincidence since I also needed to find something to do for a whole day by myself after W went back to Copenhagen on Monday.

Gibraltar has never been on my absolutely-need-to-see-as-soon-as-possible list, but it seemed silly to pass up the opportunity to go when I was so close by. So on Tuesday morning, I wrench myself out of bed bright and early for the three-hour bus ride to La Linea de la Concepion, the closest Spanish town to the border.

Getting closer…Hola!

From there I walked across the border, through passport control into what was undoubtedly a British territory.

Naturally, the first thing I wanted to do was head to the top of the Rock of Gibraltar. I walked into town, straight past the map after the border crossing, assuming it would be easy to find the cable car.

One the way into town, you get to walk across an airport runway!

The Moorish Castle

Once I got to the city centre, there were signs pointing up an alleyway for the Castle Steps to the Rock’s Nature Reserve. Only after traipsing up a few hundred stairs did I realize I was nowhere near the cable car. Instead, I had come to some other ticket office and entrance that was also advertising cable car tickets. When I got up to the window, a man in the ticket office said, “It’s 50p to walk up,” I handed him a pound, and before I knew it I was accidentally walking up the Rock of Gibraltar.

The Castle Steps

I actually recommend walking up. It allows you to see a lot of the lower part of the rock that you might otherwise miss by going straight to the top. And I’m going to venture a guess that it’s much less expensive than taking a taxi onto the Rock, like many tourists do to get to the first Apes’ Den.

Two of Gibraltar’s famous macaques were already waiting for me soon after I moved through the entrance gate.

I wound my way back and forth on the Rock, occasionally up very steep hills, enjoying the incredible views that I already had.

A plane landing at Gibraltar’s tiny airport

There seemed to be more roads on the Rock than map I had received with my ticket indicated, and before I knew it I was standing underneath Charles V Wall. There were already a few monkeys running around, even though I was a road higher than where the Apes’ Den was marked on the map.

From there I followed a steep set of stairs down to the den, which was crawling with macaques (and tourists).

There are signs everywhere reminding you not to feed or touch the macaques, and they are absolutely necessary given how close some of the monkeys allow you to get.

I could have stayed a while just watching the monkeys play, but I knew it was still quite a hike to get to the top of the Rock for the best views, so I set off once again. At this point the walk had gotten awfully hot and dirty, made more difficult by the fact I’d had a lousy breakfast since nothing was open early in Malaga.

Finally, I reached the top cable car station by foot and treated myself to a granola bar while soaking up the views.

Along the Rock on the way up, including a view of the Windsor BridgeLooking southTowards Algeciras, a major port city in SpainA view down the east side of the Rock to the beaches belowThe northern tipIt doesn’t show up well in this photo, and it was quite cloudy above the sea that day, but you could see the tip of Morocco in the back leftThe southern tip

Another macaque playground at the top of the Rock

Don’t feed the macaques, because apparently they feed themselves – this one jumped on a woman to steal her bag of pistachios

When it was time to head back down, I consulted my map again. There was clearly an entire half of the Rock I hadn’t seen. But as I looked towards the south, towards a jutting bit of mountain that I would have to climb up before heading back down, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The granola bar just wasn’t enough to keep me going.

I contented myself instead with walking down the steps along Charles V Wall, which would allow me to cut through the roads I had zig-zagged up on. It was certainly much easier and faster, though the steep stairs and the two sleeping macaques I had to step over made things a bit terrifying.

I took the Devil’s Gap Footpath back into the city.

Painted as the Union Jack

After my unexpected hike, I allowed myself some downtime in Gibraltar’s city centre, people-watching and enjoying the enjoying the unique combination of Spanish and British culture of the territory – I could have had my pick of fish and chips or paella for lunch. (I opted for neither; Gibraltar is expensive. The bakery at Marks and Spencer came to my rescue instead.)

For the record, my iPhone had absolutely no idea where I was

“British we are, British we stay”

I popped into the tourist information, where I was given a map and suggestions of a few things I could see in the 90 or so minutes I had left in Gibraltar.

The Governor’s House, called The ConventThe colourful facade of the Inces Hall Theatre

Trafalgar Cemetery

Palm trees in the United Kingdom!

Soon, sweaty and exhausted, it was time to head back to Spain to catch the bus.

I made it back to my hostel in time for one more round of free sangria and a delicious plate of their pasta with mushrooms and pancetta.

Sadly, the next morning I had a plane to catch, taking me away from Malaga and my wonderful long weekend. Safe to say these won’t be the last of my Spanish adventures!

So after a lazy breakfast at the hostel, we set out to find a place that sells Coca Cola on Sundays (which turned out to be the little souvenir booth in front of the Malaga Cathedral, for your reference) before heading up the hill to our first stop: the church of Santa Maria de la Victoria.

We opened the door cautiously to find the morning’s last service wrapping up. Once the attendees started heading outside for their post-church chit chat, we rushed forward to take some photos of the stunning altar.

We were about to head back towards the door when another English speaker with a camera appeared nearby. She asked a man something and he must have worked at the church, because before we knew it he was ushering all of us through some doors by the altar, up bright tiled stairs, and into a big room behind the altar which I have since learned is called a camarín.

From there we were granted a look at the detailed architecture of the chapel, as well as a unique view of the pews in the basilica.

The domed roof of the camarín

We only had a few minutes to look around, but we gratefully thanked our impromptu guide before heading back downstairs and outside into the sunny courtyard.

We watched the Spanish families mingle and children playing, then set off on foot again for the Castillo de Gibralfaro. As fortifications usually are, the castle was on top of another hill, affording us gorgeous views of the water and city on the walk up.

The castle was free to enter only after 2 PM, so we took our time getting there.

It’s only 116 m up, but there’s still plenty to see. We spent a good amount of time taking photos and staring out at the Mediterranean.

Yes, that is really the colour of the skyApparently we picked the wrong way up, as we had to make room to pass often. It’s a little scary leaning against ramparts that were obviously made when people were much shorterLooking west, out at Malaga’s portAnd east, to places we ran out of time to explore

Malaga Cathedral in the city centreThe castle courtyardMalaga’s bullring, La MalaguetaAyuntamiento de Malaga, the town hall

From the fortress, W suggested going to the smaller castle. Well, we both called it a smaller castle, as we had seen a glimpse of it on the way to the church that morning, and assumed it must be tinier if it was on a lower hill than Gibralfaro.

After talking with our hands and feet to some friendly Spaniards who didn’t speak English, but who did communicate to us that the walk would take ten minutes, we found the general direction to get down to Alcazaba. However, we got distracted by the lovely surroundings and couldn’t count on Google to get us on the right track, so we ended up walking around the entire castle once before we finally found the entrance. It turns out, Alcazaba is not so small as we thought.

In our defence, at this point there were three paths and it wasn’t clear which one to take!View from incorrect path #1View from incorrect path #2Maybe getting lost wasn’t so bad after allNear the actual entrance!

Once we finally found where we were supposed to enter, we set off on another trip through an old fortress; this time we were in an old Arab citadel.

The interior was better preserved than Gibralfaro, and showed a nice contrast in architecture.

The fortress is littered with gardens

It was way too windy to properly sit on the sill, but I couldn’t resist the photo opTiny pottery in the Alcazaba’s museum display cases

We’d spent enough time in the two fortresses that we could head back into the city and enter the Picasso Museum for free (Sundays after 4 PM).

I’ve mentioned before that I know nothing of modern art – including whether or not Picasso classifies as modern – and I know much less about surrealism. But, I actually know who Picasso is, so I was looking forward to the opportunity to see some of his lesser-known works.

The museum’s interior; the roof had opened by the time we left

There is also a rotating exhibit in the museum; we were able to see works from female surrealist artists.

This is Méret Oppenheim’s “The Dream of the White Marble Tortoise Wearing Horseshoes in the Legs”. Got to love a literal title

Someone we’d met on the day before had warned us that the Museu Picasso Malaga is a private museum, and doesn’t have many of Picasso’s actual works. I was pleasantly surprised to find that there are two galleries dedicated to him: one showcases the colourful abstract work he is known for, and the other has some of his more realistic sketches.

A bull made of a bicycle seat and handlebars

We were starving once we completed the museum, having not eaten anything since our late breakfast. There was no way we were going to make it to a 9 PM Spanish dinner without some sustenance.

We decided to stick to our non-vacation eating hours, which gave us the perfect opportunity to visit a normally packed bodega, El Pimpi.

When we passed El Pimpi on a narrow street earlier that day, it looked like a tiny restaurant with two tables outside. On our way down from Alcazaba, we discovered it had plenty more seating out back as well. But it wasn’t until we actually went in that evening that we could see how huge this restaurant is that is so famous among tourists.

The food was okay. We each ordered a kind of sandwich for an appetizer and the El Pimpi plate, which consisted of beef, chorizo, croquettes, eggs, potatoes, peppers, and ham. The sangria was inexpensive and still amazing, with nice strong spices.

El Pimpi is more of an experience than it is the best place to get a meal in Malaga. The wall across the bar is covered in photos of famous guests, some of whom had also signed the wine casks we sat next to.

Luckily it was empty at such an early hour, but it filled up fast.

That night we made it to bed a bit earlier. W was leaving that Monday, and we made sure to get in one more highlight before she left: a trip to the Hammam Al Andalus Arabic baths.

I don’t think I know enough words in any language to describe just how heavenly that experience was. I’d never been to any kind of spa or baths before. We had a 90-minute session with a 15-minute massage.

Waiting for our session to beginWater and dates to snack on while waiting

There are no photos allowed inside, naturally; after all, you are supposed to be relaxing (and cameras and water don’t usually mix well). So you’ll just have to picture the intricate Arab-style architecture with its small colourful tiles, the smell of the essential oils as your aching muscles are soothed, and the heat of the stones as you lie near the warm pools.

If you’re going to Malaga, treat yourself. It is so worth it.

Such a relaxing start to the day made it a real bummer to have to say goodbye to W around noon. I spent the rest of the afternoon being a little lazy, shopping, and of course eating.

Back to Atarazanas market for some fried calamari

These little pixelly pictures are all over Malaga and I have no idea why, but they make for a quirky little art exhibition

I spent a low-key evening at the hostel, meeting new people over free sangria and splurging(!) on the 2€ dinner offered. They make it in a big pot on the rooftop, giving the whole meal a very nice communal feel.

Dinner that night: pork stew with vegetables

I resisted the temptation to go on another (Monday-night) pubcrawl. Earlier in the day I’d been to the bus station to buy a ticket to Gibraltar, where I’d be heading bright and early the next morning.

It’s been a while since I went on a winter vacation, not since I snagged a trip to Egypt with work shortly after moving to Denmark the first time. In October, my friend W in Copenhagen and I started talking about doing a weekend trip somewhere warm.

Well, last weekend we ended up in Malaga, Spain. And I can say with much confidence that it was absolutely the perfect place to go for a long weekend in November.

It’s sunny, and warm, and pretty.

Really, the idea was so brilliant and the flight so cheap that I was happy to have to get up at 4 AM to make my plane.

The fact that we ended up hosting a wine-tasting at my house the night before, that ran late because our wine expert was stuck in typical German end-of-the-week traffic and resulted in me only getting three hours of sleep, didn’t deter my spirits once I landed in the Malaga airport and was immediately surrounded in the beautiful Spanish language.

I had no idea what there was to do in Malaga other than going to the beach. As it turns out, there’s a lot. W had a whole list of things for us to do over two-and-a-half days.

Even H&M gets a nice buildingThe main shopping street all lit up for Christmas; unfortunately the lights don’t turn on until 24 November

After I checked in at the hostel, we started at the Atarazana market practically next door. I was still completely full of wine and cheese from the night before, so I just contented myself with taking in the sights and sounds of the place.

Fresh fish

Delicious fresh juiceThe stalls were busy for late lunch on SaturdayI settled on a glass of vermouth, a local specialty

From there we went to the Malaga Cathedral. Unlike some big churches in Europe, this one has paid entry, but you get an audio guide as part of the cost. I almost prefer touring cathedrals this way so I can actually understand and appreciate what it is I’m looking at. Of course, I promptly forgot nearly everything the audio guide told me (cut me some slack, I was going off three hours sleep!), so forgive me while I caption all my photos with fun facts from Wikipedia.

Only the north tower of the cathedral is finished, and was even inhabited at the beginning of the 20th centuryView from the fountain in front of the cathedral, towards the cathedral……and towards a museumColourful square in front of the cathedralThe outside of the cathedral is Baroque style and divided into two sectionsThe main entranceThe interior is in Renaissance style

Towards the altar

View from the cathedral steps

One of two organsThe choir

It was early afternoon by the time we were finished and more than 20°C out, something neither of us was used to anymore in the past few weeks in Germany and Denmark.

A pop-up in town for the new Spanish football team kitsWith replica Euro and World Cup trophies

Not wanting to miss the opportunity for some basking in the sun, we headed down to the beach.

It wasn’t until we were at the beach that I really appreciated the whole experience of taking a proper, warm vacation again. Considering I often feel like I do nothing all day, apparently I still do enough to warrant a guilt-free break in the sun every so often. (So if you’re thinking about taking a weekend trip but can’t quite commit, just do it. If I’ve earned it, you certainly have.)

Hola!

Finally after a few hours of listening to the waves and briefly standing in the sea, we were starting to get hungry. It was only 6 PM, far from any acceptable Spanish dinner time, but since it had at that point been eighteen hours since the end of my wine-tasting and effectively my last meal, I thought it might be wise to grab a snack.

Walking through the Parque de Malaga on the way back

Earlier during the day we’d walked past a little café on a street corner that advertised only two deals on its sign outside, one of which was churros with hot chocolate. It looked a little dingy but we both wanted to try something authentically Spanish without ruining our dinner plans.

Lesson learned reinforced yet again: appearances can be deceiving. Apparently this was the happening place in Malaga at 6:30 in the evening. Every table was packed with Spanish families eating churros and hot chocolate. People were queuing for tables. What we thought was just a little corner cafe took up the entire street.

We got extremely lucky and managed to grab a table for two. And man, those churros were delicious. Seriously, if you’re in Malaga go to Casa Aranda. The atmosphere was incredible, with all the Spanish conversations buzzing around us. The sunset made the whole little street all cosy. Early evening seems like the right time to go, even if you’re used to a bit earlier coffee-drinking time.

Served,eating,and finished.

We popped back to our hostel before dinner since they offer free sangria from 8 PM every night.

In plastic IKEA cups.

Then we sped off to a little tapas place called El Tapeo de Cervantes at around 9 PM, the normal Spanish dinnertime. It was Saturday and absolutely packed, but again we lucked out and snagged the last table out front.

The tapas were amazing. I ate so much fantastic food in Spain, and this was the best of it. I was so glad that I had finally recovered from the wine and cheese binge enough to really enjoy it.

Roasted red peppers stuffed with cod in tomato sauceOctopus on a potato puréeWild mushrooms with pancettaArgentinian beef with potatoes and saladLovely view for dinner

It was a leisurely dinner and before we knew it, it was time to head back to the hostel. Every night they host a pub crawl from 11 PM. Having gotten up so early, it wasn’t part of my plans, but W thought it would be a great idea and convinced me to go – Saturday would be the best night for it anyway.

As with everything in this post, the pub crawl was fantastic. I met so many lovely people, everyone had such great energy, and all the drinks were so cheap. I finally left the club at 4:45 AM on Sunday, walked home in still-crowded streets, and crawled into bed a little after 5 AM, twenty-five hours after getting up that morning.

]]>https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/19/malaga-part-1-the-25-hour-day/feed/4lariwestsideMalaga 1Malaga 2Malaga 3Malaga 4Atarazanas 1Atarazanas 2Atarazanas 3Atarazanas 4Atarazanas 5Atarazanas 6Malaga Cathedral 1Malaga Cathedral 2Malaga Cathedral 3Malaga 6Malaga 5Malaga Cathedral 4Malaga Cathedral 5Malaga Cathedral 6Malaga Cathedral 7Malaga Cathedral 8Malaga Cathedral 9Malaga Cathedral 10Malaga Cathedral 11Malaga Cathedral 12Malaga Cathedral 13Malaga Cathedral 14Malaga Cathedral 15Malaga 8Malaga 9Malaga Beach 1Malaga Beach 2Malaga Beach 3Malaga Beach 4Malaga Beach 5Malaga Beach 6Parque de MalagaMalaga Churros 4Malaga Churros 1Malaga Churros 2Malaga Churros 3Malaga 10Malaga Tapas 1Malaga Tapas 2Malaga Tapas 3Malaga Tapas 4Malaga Tapas 5Malaga 11Malaga 7Tips for Moving Abroadhttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/09/tips-for-moving-abroad/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/09/tips-for-moving-abroad/#respondThu, 09 Nov 2017 13:46:53 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=503More Tips for Moving Abroad]]>In the past five years, I’ve lived in four different countries, and one thing I’ve learned is that moving to a new place is never as easy as you might imagine. One of those countries is the one in which I grew up, Canada. Of the other three, one I moved to to study abroad, where everything was planned for me; one I was already a citizen of and had been visiting my entire life; and the third was smack dab in the middle of the other two.

Even with all sorts of help, resources, guidance, and experience, I couldn’t properly prepare myself for moving to any of them. You may think you have it all sorted out before you go, but actually getting to a new country and settling down is a whole other matter.

After all those moves, the least I could do is offer some advice if you’re thinking about moving abroad or have recently landed somewhere new. Most of this list was written after I moved to Copenhagen for the first time and wanted to remind myself that I learned something from the stressful experience. But as I was going through old photos, I realized that all of the items on this list applied at one point or another when I was switching countries, and hopefully they apply to you too.

I bring you my top tips for moving abroad:

1. Remember that moving to some place is different than just travelling there. It’s common for even the most penny-pinching of travellers to allow themselves to splurge a little on a trip so as not to regret missing out on something. While accomodation is one of the most expensive parts of travelling, a lot of people have no problem taking the cheapest option if all they’re going to do there is sleep.

I rarely ate out in Uppsala, but I treated myself to an amazing not-so-cheap burger on a trip to Stockholm…Where my friends and I also spent almost 120€ on appetizers and wine for a waterfront dinner. When in Sweden right?

That perspective changes when you need to plan for the long-term. When you have to start thinking about rent and feeding yourself for longer than a week, chances are you’re going to be a little smarter with your money; maybe you’ll start converting everything to the currency you’re most familiar with, in which case price differences can really jump out at you. Of course, this is also a positive if you’re moving somewhere less expensive.

Travelling to Copenhagen? Go to brunch. Live in Copenhagen? Erm, make pancakes at home.

Beyond the financial aspect, part of what makes travelling so exciting is experiencing new cultures and locales while taking a break from your normal routine. Once you get settled in your new home, it can be easy to get back into a mundane cycle when you’re not out exploring the sights every day. Which brings me to my next point…

2. Force yourself to go outside. Even if you’re scared or the weather is so unappealing you’d rather stay in bed all day, just go for a quick walk to start getting to know your new home. You can only build a new sense of familiarity if you start interacting with your surroundings. Begin your search for your new favourite bar and learn something about where you live so you can play tour guide when your friends come to visit.

Outside my hostel on my first night in UppsalaMy first look at Uppsala, which I’d come to know very well in the following months

3. Say yes to new experiences. Even if you decide to bail on your new city or country before starting a life there, don’t you want to be able to tell your friends about the cool stuff you did in that time?

Gasques: an essential part of life in Uppsala

4. It’s okay to be discouraged. While it can be exciting to be experiencing so many new things, it’s easy to become homesick once you feel something is missing. And that’s normal! Even if you think you’ve got life in a new place all figured out, you can still be thrown curveballs that make you ask why you ever left.

At the end of my first month in Copenhagen I was enjoying my new job and looking forward to moving into my long-term home. Then all in one night I got lost while meeting with someone and couldn’t find Wi-Fi to let her know; I got locked out of my apartment because painters that had come that day hadn’t left my key under the mat like I asked them to; and I (again) lost my way after picking up secondhand furniture and ended up walking around in the dark for an hour with an IKEA Malm bedside table balanced on my bike. By the time I found my way I was exhausted and frustrated and seriously missing some comforts of home, like, er, a car. Instead of resolving to leave immediately, I had a beer and decided this would be one of those days I would eventually brag about surviving.

And I was rewarded a couple weeks later with a hyggelig dinner with some of my new roommates.

5. Accept that there are some things you can’t change. It’s true. You’re somewhere new, after all. Things are going to be different than what you’re used to. While you’re focusing on the big differences between your old home and your new one, like the culture, eventually it’s the small things that can really get you frustrated.

For me, it’s often a change in snacks that makes me homesick; in Sweden I was annoyed that I couldn’t find granola bars anywhere, which I often took to class in Canada. At first I had family send me boxes in the mail, until I eventually realized I don’t need granola bars in my life and just gave them up. In Denmark, I was aghast at the lack of diversity in yogurt. (Pear-banana was a cool new thing to try at first, until it suddenly became the only option.) Eventually, Lidl became my saviour after they released a new line of yogurts with granola. But I wasn’t about to let myself get riled up every time I walked to the dairy fridges and was greeted with the same selection. I, one single, non-entrepreneurial, non-dairy farmer human, was not about to dramatically change the Danish yogurt landscape by myself. So I just ate other things instead.

If you think you can avoid traffic jams by taking your bike instead of your car to work, you’re in for a surprise in Copenhagen.

Don’t let yourself get upset every day because your new commute is longer than your old one, or you suddenly have to pay for plastic bags at the grocery store. Learn to appreciate (or, at least tolerate) minor changes as part of the bigger experience.

6. Embrace the positives of being in a new place. To continue with the whole “don’t stay mad over minor differences” thing, go the other way as well: get super excited about the new awesome stuff you get to experience. Appreciate that your new church was built in 1674, visit the top of the tallest tower to see the city from above, and travel often because the flights are so much cheaper. But also try the super fresh seafood at a good restaurant, watch the local sports team in action, and go shopping on a Sunday just because you can. You’ll get to enjoy lots of touristy things when you move somewhere new; just don’t forget to savour the small day-to-day events that you’ll only miss once you leave.

On Fat Tuesday/Mardi Gras/Fettisdagen in Sweden, you are supposed to eat a semla. That’s a tradition I can get on board with.There may not be too much to do in a small town. But if it’s right on the border, you can celebrate your birthday by doing a shot in two countries at once.I don’t really eat fast food, but I’ll be damned if I go to Sweden without stopping at Max.

7. Make time for yourself. Moving somewhere new is hard. Making new friends is hard, getting to know your new office is hard, leaving your family is hard, translating labels is hard.

It can be really fun to challenge yourself to something new, and maybe that’s why you moved abroad in the first place. Just remember not to overwhelm yourself. Even if you’ve avoided culture shock, had your living situation sorted out for you by your company, and already know some people in the new city, there are still moments where you can really find yourself vulnerable to homesickness. It happens! If you really, really, really just can’t handle all the newness and need something a bit familiar, treat yourself to it. Stay in and watch a movie. Skype your friends back home. Order that overpriced bulk box of Reese’s peanut butter cups off Amazon because you’ve been craving them for three months and you can’t find them anywhere else. You’ve already overcome so much – you earned it!

(Or, you know, you could be like the good people of Flogsta in Uppsala and just scream for a bit.)

]]>https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/09/tips-for-moving-abroad/feed/0lariwestsideTips for Moving Abroad 10Tips for Moving Abroad 11Tips for Moving Abroad 9Tips for Moving Abroad 4Tips for Moving Abroad 5Tips for Moving Abroad 7Tips for Moving Abroad 1Tips for Moving Abroad 3Tips for Moving Abroad 6Tips for Moving Abroad 8Tips for Moving Abroad 2A European Halloweenhttps://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/02/a-european-halloween/
https://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/02/a-european-halloween/#respondThu, 02 Nov 2017 18:39:38 +0000http://ridingthepineblog.wordpress.com/?p=3561More A European Halloween]]>I have had a string of bad Halloweens. Last year I wrote a big rant about my bad Halloweens that I found again recently, and I felt a little uneasy reading it. Of course, in the grand scheme of things, one doesn’t need a good Halloween to be happy. On the other hand, it really did seem that this time of the year just hasn’t been good to me for a while. So this year I decided to switch it up by celebrating Halloween properly.

“Properly” is a relative term. While Halloween is becoming a bit more popular in Germany thanks to the infusion of American culture that has been happening for years, it’s still nothing like what I grew up with Canada. Our street has quite a few impressive jack-o-lanterns, but there are no trick-or-treaters out and about.

In any case, trick-or-treating isn’t really my thing anymore as a childless 25-year-old. What I needed was a nice follow-up to the Halloween party my university club put on every year, and luckily I found it: SWR3’s Halloween Party at Europa Park.

I’ve written about Europa Park before and how it was a wonderful part of my childhood, but it hasn’t lost any of its magic as I’ve gotten older. And while their Christmas decorations are certainly nothing to scoff at, their Halloween decorations may even top that.

For the record, I went out as Austin Powers:

But the Germans really blew me away with their costumes. Halloween isn’t just a scary holiday in North America – it’s become more of an opportunity to dress up as anything you want (often in the “sexy” category). I’ve had a history, even as a child, of dressing up as movie, TV show, or literary characters rather than as ghosts or mummies.

In Germany, Halloween is still a bit more “traditional”. Most of the costumes I saw weren’t of notable characters, instead incorporating dark clothing and fake blood in any possible form. And the makeup! I can’t believe how many people around here are so talented in face-painting. I swear some of the party-goers I saw could do prosthetic makeup for major productions. I didn’t want to take photos of strangers without asking, so here are some photos from the 2016 party. Germans also apparently go nuts for creepy contact lenses.

Full disclosure: my photos from the night are pretty terrible. It was dark and surprisingly cold and my hands were shaking and I was just too excited.

I didn’t really know what to expect from the party, I just knew I really wanted to go to see one of my favourite German DJs, Alle Farben, who was headlining. I had my ticket checked just after 7 PM and he wasn’t on until 11:30, which gave me ample time to take advantage of all the other treats (see what I did there?) that came with the evening.

The Eurosat

Creepy zombie dolls scaring all the visitors

The German national team, if they were skeletons

The whole day the park had been filled with spooky shows and events that carried on into the night with extended opening hours. Not much started before 9 PM though, so I wandered through the park admiring the decor. Eventually the freezing cold drove me to a pub in the relatively new Irish part of the park.

Where I discovered a bunch of Germans know all the words to “Country Roads”.Would Austin drink a cider?Groovy, baby!

In addition to all the events going on in the park, we party-goers had extended access to a few rides, including the Eurosat roller coaster. Even the ride itself, which takes place in the dark, was littered with the occasional glowing pumpkin.

Cobwebs above the queue

Most of the evening events took place in the conference centre near the park entrance, where we even got themed Halloween food like pumpkin soup. I popped into the silent disco for a bit, where I could choose between dancing to modern dance music, pop and R&B from the 80s and 90s, or German Schlagerhits.

Everyone in red headphones was jamming to German pop music.

Finally it was time to head over to “Horror Goes Clubbing” for Alle Farben.

It’s been ages (literally – since my exchange to Sweden more than four years ago) since I’ve seen a DJ live, even though I love house music. I had forgotten how much better your favourite songs are live, with the energy of the crowd making you dance and sing like no one’s watching.

Dambo, who has been building sculptures out of recycled material for years, had just completed a major project called The Six Forgotten Giants. There were now six huge statues sitting around some neighbourhoods in the outskirts of Copenhagen, made of recycled wood and bringing joy to visitors.

My friends and I had talked a few times about going to find them all when the weather was nice, but trying to coordinate the schedules of a half-dozen people and find a day without rain proved too difficult. So, after the marathon and before my trip to Canada, I decided to head out on my own to find them all.

Dambo has helpfully provided treasure maps for each of the statues on his website, but I decided a bit of planning on Google Maps beforehand would be beneficial, especially since these were neighbourhoods I had (with one exception, thanks to my mom’s choice of Airbnb) never visited before.

I was planning on doing the whole tour by bike since the statues were standing in parks and remote areas, quite far from any train stations. The giants were split into two major areas west of the city centre, so I spread the trip over two days.

First up: a short trip to Rødøvre to see Sleeping Louis.

Louis is having a nice long nap by a campground. If you’re taking a quick trip to Copenhagen and want a glimpse of the giants, he is definitely the most accessible. When I first got there, kids were playing all over him and running in and out of his mouth.

From Rødøvre, I started the long trek to find Teddy Friendly. I rode through a bunch of neighbourhoods that I only knew as S-train stops, passed one of the stops on the regional train to Roskilde, and eventually left the greater Copenhagen city limits. Around the time I saw a sign showing I was only 16 km from Roskilde, I turned into a field and made my way out to a small lake where Teddy was lounging in the trees.

After spending some time admiring Teddy, I turned back towards the city, as the next two giants were in a park in Albertslund off the right side of the road. It was on this journey that I began to appreciate the new things I was seeing by exploring a part of Copenhagen I would have otherwise never thought to visit. Most memorable was the American-50s-style diner and motel I passed, Wittrup Motel.

Even though I’d earned it at this point with all the cycling, I didn’t want to take up a table just to have a milkshake, so I carried on.

You would think a giant would be easy to spot, but trying to find them in Albertslund was the toughest part of the whole adventure. Despite the very tailored instructions I’d written for myself after poring over Google Maps, I only managed to find Little Tilde in the woods.

Despite being “little”, Tilde wasn’t much smaller than the other giants.

Larissa for scale

Search as I might for Thomas on the Mountain, the giant named for the artist himself, I couldn’t find him. I biked in circles around the park, climbed steep hills, zapped the battery on my phone and most of the remaining data on my pre-paid SIM, and narrowly avoided getting attacked by a gaggle of geese. But Thomas just did not want to be seen.

The next day I headed for the beach. On the way, I passed close to an Airbnb where my mom, aunt, and I had stayed on the weekend of the Copenhagen marathon. We had been told that one of the statues was nearby, and yet had never gone searching after long days of walking through the city. On this occasion I discovered just how close we had been to Hilltop Trine.

Trine is keeping watch over a farm in Avedøre. You could probably get nice and comfortable in her outstretched hands and watch the sheep.

The last stop was Ishøj, to visit Oscar Under the Bridge. On the way there I passed ARKEN, a huge museum of modern art. While a few people showed up during my visits to each statue, when I arrived to see Oscar he was being climbed over and selfied on by (presumably) North American tourists.

Since Oscar is staring straight at the sky, his pupils and eyebrows have lost a bit of their colour. It makes him look a bit, er, madder than the others.

Especially with that wiry mad scientist hair

It was a long and arduous journey, but I managed to soak up two consecutive (!!) days of sunshine in Copenhagen while searching for these forgotten, recycled giants. Thanks, Thomas Dambo, for sharing your work with us.

Now after all that cycling, I think I deserved to finish off with a proper Danish treat: ice cream with a flødebolle.